


Case 176: The Adventure Of The Evened Odds (1900)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [226]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Athletes, Bets & Wagers, Cheating, Destiel - Freeform, Exhaustion, Gay Sex, Injury, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Olympics, Panties, Theatre, United States, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-26 21:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ Someone is not for the high jump as Mr. Percy Jackson, freshly admitted to the Olympian Club, comes to Sherlock with a concern over his fellow member Mr. Ares Jones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookworm4ever81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm4ever81/gifts).



_[Narration by Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Esquire]_

At the start of the previous year John and I had been involved in the matter of Mr. Percy Jackson's ultimately successful quest to join the Olympian Club, despite the machinations of some of its less scrupulous members. He had been fulsome in his thanks and now the young fellow was back with a somewhat unusual request.

“I know that so many of the things you investigate start off as not much and end up as nothing”, he said, “but this is... sort of odd.”

“How may we be of assistance?” I asked.

“It concerns one of the Olympians themselves, Mr. Ares Jones”, he said. “Very like his namesake, always out to stir up trouble of one sort or another. He has two sons, naturally called Deimos and Phobos, and one of the servants of the club told me that they were chatting the other day in secret.”

“Chatting in a gentleman's club in London within earshot of a servant seems quite unwise”, I observed. “What did they say?”

“Unfortunately they kept their voices low so he could hardly hear anything that they said”, Mr. Jackson said. “The only thing he could make out was that they were talking about someone called Uri who, they said, was a jumper. It did not make much sense to me, but I decided to see if you could make anything of it.”

“I know of the fellow”, John said to my surprise. “Raymond Ewry, the American athlete. There was an article about him in one of my medical magazines; he started his life in a wheelchair suffering from the dreaded polio but has quite literally worked himself fit and is set to compete at the Olympic Games in Paris this month. A most remarkable achievement.”

I thought for a moment.

“Why were Mr. Ares' sons in the club in the first place?” I asked eventually. “I had thought that the Olympians banned all but full members from its grounds.”

“That is true”, Mr. Jackson said, “but during the month in which the ancient Olympic Games took place, the sons of full members are allowed temporary access. I doubt that either of them would be considered for full membership otherwise the place would be crawling with the Council's offspring, and besides they are not really that pleasant. I myself think that we should have some more members but I am in a minority over that opinion.”

“Have you any idea why Mr. Jones or his sons might be concerned with Mr. Ewry?” I asked. Our visitor shook his head.

“Apart from the fact we are all Olympians of one sort or another, I do not know”, he said.

I looked at him curiously.

“I think that I also need physical descriptions of these two young demi-gods”, I said.

“Phobos is a bit of a runt, weedy and scruffy”, our visitor said. “Deimos is quite tall, athletic but rotten to the core. They are twins, so I suppose they are whatever is the exact opposite of identical.”

I thought for a moment.

“I can see one possibility”, I said, “but I shall have to call in an expert who may or may not be disposed to help me. If you leave us your card Mr. Jackson, we shall keep you informed of any developments.”

“Do you think that there will be some?” he asked placing a card on our table.

“I think it likely”, I said. “Thank you for bringing us this case.”

֍

Once our visitor had gone John looked at me uncertainly.

“Is this one of your 'friends' who would not welcome my presence?” he asked.

I knew that despite his apparent acceptance of this sort of thing, it still galled him that he could not come with me at times, especially so soon after my foolishness at Tonbridge. He was so good for me.

“Fortunately Mr. Arquebus is an ardent admirer of your works and he will welcome your presence”, I said. “Indeed given the sensitivity of the matter at hand your being there may even make him more likely to help that would otherwise be the case.”

He looked at me curiously.

֍

There was seemingly nothing unusual about the small and almost decrepit betting-shop on the edge of the East End. The sign 'W. Arquebus, Turf Accountant' was in need of a good clean as was the window, and I knew that John was uneasy that I had not allowed him to bring his gun. There was no physical danger here I was sure, but he still did not like it and stuck closer to me than usual.

I sent a card in and, as I had hoped we were swiftly ushered through the raised counter and out the back. This looked little better than the front, and even although I knew it for a fact I found it still hard to credit that the scruffy and unprepossessing bespectacled gentleman waiting for us was one of the richest men in London Town.

“Mr. Holmes and his estimable scribe!” Mr. Arquebus beamed. “Welcome to my humble abode. I shall have drinks served, then we can talk.”

I noted and was pleased that he had remembered coffee for me. I waited until the servants had gone before I set about my business.

“This is a little delicate even by my usual standards”, I began. “I know that one of the reasons for your success, sir, is that you carefully monitor any unusual betting patterns, particularly as there are some in the criminal fraternity who see the world of gambling as one in which they can rig the game and make easy money.”

“Indeed”, Mr. Arquebus said. “Assuming that I did undertake such a large task I am sure that you could see the obvious problem, namely where to draw the line. How many wagers on a certain event and in a certain direction would constitute 'suspicious activity'?”

“I am thinking in particular of the Olympian Club”, I said.

“I know of them”, Mr. Arquebus said, frowning slightly. “A rank above the usual criminality one finds in the clubs of this metropolis; were they not possessed of several politicians and top policemen in their pockets I suspect that their activities would be curtailed quite swiftly. I also understand that a gentleman whom you helped join a while back, Mr. Jackson, is making a name for himself in reducing those activities from within, which can only be for the general good especially as the _'Times'_ is currently pressing the polcei to do more in that area.”

“I have cause to believe that some of the club members view see the forthcoming Olympic Games in Paris as an opportunity to make money without Mr. Jackson being aware”, I said. “May I be permitted to know if there has been any unusual activity n that sphere?”

He looked at me uncertainly, then nodded.

“Yes”, he said. “Quite cleverly done; had I not contacts with several others in the business I would not have spotted it. A large number of small to medium-sized sums have been wagered on an American gentleman called Mr. Irwin Baxter. That is, I feel, rather worrying.”

“Why?” John asked. “Er, if you do not mind me asking?”

Mr. Arquebus looked hard at me. I could guess the answer.

“Although my knowledge of American athletics is minimal”, I said, “I would wager that Mr. Baxter is by some distance the _second_ best athlete when it comes to who is likely to win in certain events in Paris. Mr. Ewry is by some distance the best – but if anything were to happen to him and he failed to make the Games, those betting on Mr. Baxter would have won their bets on much longer odds.”

“We are allowed to make deductions if a favourite withdraws or does not start”, Mr. Arquebus said, “but we would still lose heavily given the amount of money that has been wagered on Mr. Baxter. If I were Mr. Ewry and I knew of this, I would be very nervous.”

I frowned at that.

“We cannot mount a twenty-four hour guard on the poor fellow until he has done his last event”, I said, “so some other means of protecting him must be arranged. Mr. Arquebus, I am not a betting man so pardon my ignorance in this next question. These wagers that have been levied on Mr. Baxter – would the people be entitled to withdraw them at all?”

“No”, Mr. Arquebus said. “Although the deduction that we can make is larger for those with lower odds, up to twenty per cent.”

John had been looking thoughtful and suddenly spoke up.

“Some of these odd bets are accumulators, are they not?” he asked.

Mr. Arquebus beamed at him.

“You are as sagacious as you are skilled at writing yours and Mr. Holmes' adventures together”, he said. “Yes. _That_ is indeed the matter at hand.”

I looked across at my friend, uncomprehending.

“Say the man making the bet was offered six to one on Mr. Baxter winning a single event”, he explained. “But if he wagered on all three standing jumps† then he would get far better odds, six to one three times over or around two hundred to one.”

Mr. Arquebus nodded.

“I offered one hundred and fifty to one on such an unlikely occurrence”, he said, “and one of my colleagues most unwisely gave five hundred to one. If what you say is true Mr. Holmes, we could be very badly hit.”

“I think that we need to see Mr. Irwin Baxter”, I said. “If he is willing to co-operate in a slight subterfuge then all may still be well. Thank you for your time today, sir, and we shall of course keep you apprised of developments.”

֍


	2. Chapter 2

We were fortunate in that a number of America athletes had chosen to come to England for a few months before crossing to Paris, and that those included both Mr. Ewry and Mr. Baxter. I managed to arrange to meet the latter in a small restaurant not far from the American Embassy and explained the situation to him. He was a tall, gangly youth who did not look his twenty-three years of age, but he was pleasant enough and clearly surprised by what I had to tell him.

“Yes, we have betting problems back in the States, sir”, he said politely. “I've been offered money to 'throw' events before and I know that some of my friends have too.”

“This, I am afraid, may be a more direct means of influencing matters”, I said. “The gentleman behind this scheme is, I have found, prone to violence in order to achieve his ends, and it is my belief that he would be prepared to inflict serious injury on your compatriot Mr. Ewry.”

The young fellow's face clouded.

“Ray and I may be from different colleges”, he said stoutly, “but we are Americans first and foremost. That man must be stopped!”

“Short of mounting a twenty-four hour guard on your compatriot that would be difficult”, I said. “Now, the three events that you are both competing in take place next month and I would need your help in this matter.”

“If I do beat Ray it must be in a fair fight”, the fellow said. “What do you need me to do?”

֍

A couple of days later we were distracted by a visit from my brother Luke. Or at least from what was left of him; he looked terrible!

“How is Sandy?” I asked innocently.

He glared at me. Even that effort was clearly a lot for him.

“We went to the theatre last night”, he sighed. “Ye Gods, what an experience!”

“Was it a bad play?” John asked.

“I have no idea”, Luke sighed. “Once we were in our box he began jerking me off, and the curtain was not the only thing rising! And the horny bastard had actually brought a wash-kit with him, so once he was done he pulled my trousers down and cleaned me up, then blew me again!”

“The young are terrible these days”, I sympathized. “And servants really need to know their place better. You will not be doing that again, I suppose?”

He blushed fiercely.

“We are going again tonight”, he said, so quietly that I could barely hear him.

I said nothing but just looked at him.

“Shut up!”

֍

The following day we were back at the decrepit booking-shop with a clearly pleased Mr. Arquebus.

“A most excellent move, Mr. Holmes”, he said as he looked at the paper between us. “It engenders uncertainty which, as we both know, is no friend to the punter.”

The article on top of the paper's sports page concerned a recent and unfortunate injury to an American athlete who had been visiting London prior to moving on to Paris for the Olympic Games. Mr. Irving Baxter had fallen down some stairs and had had to have his leg put in plaster for at least a full month. He was expected to make a recovery but, the writer opined, this considerably reduced his chances in the Olympics.

“We have had several people suddenly coming in and asking if they can indeed withdraw their bets because of this development”, Mr. Arquebus smiled. “They were, sadly, all disappointed.”

“If one tries to 'scam' a system then that is the risk one runs”, I said unsympathetically. “Mr. Baxter is of course fine; the cast he was photographed in is easily detachable so he can still train, and his doctor has furnished him with a note for his French equivalent that it can be removed ten days before his events. Although given that Mr. Ewry has consistently outperformed him in the past, I am afraid that his chances in the standing events are still not good.”

“I still wish him well though”, Mr. Arquebus said. “His decency has saved me and my fellow bookmakers much money.”

He looked expectantly at me.

“I have found this matter diverting in itself”, I said, “so I will levy no charges. However, I think it would be good if you and your friends give at least some of that money to Mr. Baxter as an anonymous donation, for his assistance in this matter.”

“It shall be done”, the bookmaker promised.

֍

“I have noticed that you yourself do not usually gamble”, I said to John as we headed back to Baker Street.

“Why would I?” he smiled. “I have already won the lottery of life when I won you.”

That someone still called Mr. Legendary Emotional Constipation by his brother could come out with things like that straight off – I may have sniffed somewhat manfully.

“Well, I shall make one wager”, I said. “I foresee a long afternoon in with Mrs. Singer being told not to let anyone come up. And I wager that you will have great enjoyment in removing the panties that I am currently wearing.”

He gasped as I flashed the merest glimpse of lace at him.

“The white ones!” he managed. “Oh Lord above!”

“I rather think you will be the one above, as you make me yours again”, I said. “What are we waiting for?”

֍

We did not wait long upon our return to Baker Street. And the panties did not survive the day!

֍

_Postscriptum: Mr. Ewry would win all three standing versions in both Paris and St. Louis, and the standing long and high jumps in London (1908) where the standing triple was not contested. He did not contest the other two events in Stockholm in 1912, their last appearance before they too were withdrawn from the roster. Mr. Baxter, who was runner-up in all three disciplines in Paris, did however strike gold by winning the pole vault and (regular) high jump._

֍


End file.
